Glory
by RyelleTerciel
Summary: The Dark Lord seeks peace, not power, in the death of Harry. Harry awaits a battle to the death with him. Who will triumph?


Glory  
By Ryelle Terciel  
  
Dark  
  
  
This is the day, the day when it will all come together. The years spent scrupulously poring over every detail will finally mold into one beautiful, brilliant moment.  
I have ravenously inhaled every book on the subject I could find for years now. Slowly but surely, my plan has begun to materialize.  
I can't stand the attention the boy gets. Harry this. Harry that. All because my spell failed to work.  
Well, the rest of the world is in for a surprise. This day will be the end of Harry's era. I no longer seek power. I seek peace.  
It may seem strange to you all, seeking peace in the death of a boy. But that is all I want. I don't need power anymore. That is what it started as, but that is not what it has evolved to be.  
That day, what was it…Sixteen? Seventeen years ago? Not that it will matter soon enough. Harry, only a baby, defied my power. He dared defy me. His stupid, sniveling mother's love brought me down. She didn't have to fight me. I gave her the opportunity to rejoin me. But she denied it. I gave her every chance, but she gave it all up for her son. I admire her for that in some ways. But in others, I find it hard to believe she would make such a decision.  
This is exactly why I need to find peace. Now, though, I have the blood of Harry flowing through my veins, making it all too easy.  
I won't make it painful for the boy. It will be quick and painless, I assure you. I don't necessarily want to see him suffer. I want him gone…gone to the wind, his ashes flying free. He will die peacefully, so to speak, and I will be able to as well.  
I know he will resist. He has fought me all these years and won every time. But this time will be different, because I have plotted every step. He will most likely die resisting, but it will be quick and painless.  
His last day at Hogwarts is tomorrow. That is the day when his education will end, along with his life, along with my life.  
The only way to die properly is with dignity. I will die with dignity. My death will be my choice.  
However, it seems Harry won't be quite so lucky. He will die at my mercy, or lack thereof. I will die at my mercy, or lack thereof.  
And now I must be gone, to execute my final plan.  
  
  
Light  
  
  
This last day of class doesn't really matter. It's all a formality anyhow. My last day in Potions with Snape has at last come. Although, for once, I don't mind being down here in the dungeons. At least it's nice and cool, but outside, it's burning.  
Burning. Like the dream last night. When I woke up this morning, my scar was burning from the dream. This wasn't one of the old recurring nightmares. No, this one's new. That's the part that frightens me.  
Voldemort's up to something; that I know. The scary part is, I don't know what he's up to. I know he's plotting my death, but that's all. Nothing new.  
But maybe it is something new. This time, it feels different. I can't exactly explain. But I just know this time will be different. Perhaps he will win this time, and perhaps I will die.  
But just saying perhaps is no good. Perhaps this. Perhaps that. Just because something could happen, doesn't mean it will.  
I am worried this time. I have so much unfinished business here on earth.  
What am I saying? How do I know I am going to die?  
I mustn't die. I simply mustn't.  
  
I can feel it. Today is the day. Voldemort and I will do our final battle. I know it will be a fight to the death, just like the dream. But the dream never ended. It never said who was the victor and who the defeated. It only showed the battle.  
I will battle to the death.  
I must not allow myself to give in to Voldemort, the personification and embodiment of pure, unadulterated evil.  
I need to triumph. There is no other way but triumph. If I am defeated, evil will run rampant, unrestrained by good, as it has been.  
Perhaps until today. "Perhaps" again. Perhaps is all the future is though. The future is set in stone, but in an unintelligible language of runes, at least to us human beings.  
Snape is droning on about our future. I can see the look in his eyes, and it makes me wonder. Does he know what I know? Perhaps.  
The future will come, and I must be prepared to face it, armed with only my wand and the knowledge these last seventeen years have brought me.  
My friends are gone, and I am now alone. Voldemort snatched them from me.  
I abhor that creature with a violent passion, but I must remain calm. I must be tranquil.  
Triumph is the only path. I will do it for Ron and Hermione. They gave their lives for me, and if necessary, I will do the same for them. When many were turning to darkness, they stuck with me. We had bonds stronger than super glue.  
But they're gone now. And I must move on without them. Perhaps…perhaps not without them completely. Although they are not here in person, they are always with me in spirit.  
And I must move on.  
  
  
Gray  
  
  
Classes had finally ended. All the students were leaving for home, all saying last goodbyes to friends. Everyone was boarding the Hogwarts Express except for one boy.  
Harry knew he had to face his destiny, and face it alone.  
He waited patiently for Voldemort to arrive. He stood outside the castle in the extensive courtyards. The sun shined down on him, and he was almost disgusted by its eternal happiness. But then again, this might be his last chance to bask in its eternal rays.  
  
Voldemort left his lair for Hogwarts. He knew Harry would know about this by now. He knew Harry would be waiting for him. All he had to do was arrive, and they could duel it out and battle to the death. No tricks. Just two souls forever juxtaposed, each trying to overcome the other.  
  
The two met silently in the courtyards at Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore watched silently, knowing he could not interfere, even if Harry were in mortal peril. This was destiny, and he had no right to meddle with Fate herself. He sighed and stared out his window, well aware that he could be either witnessing the glorification or the downfall of the Earth.  
  
"To the death," Harry said.  
"To the death," Voldemort agreed.  
The two bowed, as was the custom. There were no seconds, however. This was a battle strictly between Voldemort and Harry, between Dark and Light.  
Both stared at one another. They circled each other with extremely determined looks in their eyes; strangely, neither particularly wanted to make the first move. Behind facades of valiance and determination lay a bit of fear and anxiety.  
Then, at one exact moment in time, they both raised their wands and cast perhaps their final spells.  
"Avanda Kedavara!" screamed Voldemort.  
"Artenda!" cried Harry.  
The former would surely kill Harry, being of course the forbidden killing curse. The latter would only knock Voldemort unconscious for a few hours.  
Still in that same moment, now, orange streaks radiated from Harry and Voldemort's wands and raced furiously toward each other. The streaks of light collided in midair, mixed, and bounced back.  
Both Harry and Voldemort would now die.  
  
  
Spectrum  
  
  
Harry awoke in a strange, dark place. "So this is death, I suppose."  
"No, not quite," a soft female voice replied. "This is only the halfway point."  
"Oh."  
"You have an important decision to make, Harry." The woman motioned to the two paths before him. "You can move on and be with your friends and family, or you can turn back and face the perils that may await you."  
The woman stepped aside. To his left stood his mother, Lily, his father, James, and his friends Ron and Hermione. Tears welled up in his eyes. He could finally be at rest with those he loved.  
But no. That would be all too easy. I mustn't die, he remembered himself thinking during Potions. "Triumph is the only path," he whispered through his tears. He waved to his loved ones and said, "I choose life."  
The woman closed her eyes and nodded. Instantly, a flash of light consumed him.  
  
Harry opened his eyes to the sun's piercing, eternal rays. He was now back outside Hogwarts. He smiled and leapt up. He felt his limbs to make sure he was really alive, really back here on Earth. He was.  
Then he looked down. Voldemort had chosen death, although by now the body was that of Tom Riddle. Harry looked into Voldemort's face and suddenly understood. Voldemort had wanted only finality. For a fleeting moment, his utter hatred for Voldemort subsided, and he felt a feeling of almost compassion. However, the feeling disappeared nearly as suddenly as it had come.  
Harry still took it upon himself to cremate Voldemort. "Incendio," Harry whispered. Flames licked Voldemort's body, slowly consuming him. Harry watched the body burn through the night.  
In the morning, he collected the ashes and placed them in a jar. He had recently passed his Apparition test, so he apparated to Dover, to the White Cliffs. He stood atop Shakespeare Cliff and looked out to the English Channel. Harry took the ashes and let them fly. Voldemort was now gone to the wind, his ashes flying free.   
And at last, both were at peace.  
  
THE END  
  
copyright 2001 Ryelle Terciel 


End file.
